Walk away
by Devil-may-care101
Summary: Betrayal, Confusion, Pain. Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you just walked away from everything and didn't look back? How far would you run? Xover with Without A Trace
1. Chapter 1

_Right, this is something new for me, I have never tried a crossover story before so I'm not sure how this will turn out. I hope you like it, but please review or I won't know whether to continue it or not._

_Disclaimer: Don't own CSI NY or Without A Trace, so please don't sue me, I have nothing you want, trust me._

* * *

Lindsay Monroe sat at her desk in her living room, watching as the rain poured down, the lightning lighting up the city. Quite fitting of her mood.

It wasn't that she was upset, because she wasn't. She wasn't angry, wasn't upset, wasn't unhappy. Yet something didn't feel quite right. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew something wasn't right. She'd been feeling that way for days, and the pretence she held up at work was beginning to lose its appeal. She was tired of smiling, tired of trying to keep her emotions from overcoming her, tired of trying to convince her friends that she was ok.

In short, she was tired of everything.

But nothing in particular stood out from the rest.

She'd never been very articulate, that's why she excelled at science and maths at school and failed at the extended writing subjects as English and History. It wasn't that she'd disliked those subjects, quite the opposite in fact, but she just couldn't express herself in the way she needed to. So trying to express herself now was becoming quite a challenge.

If there was one word to describe her right now, she thought, the word would be 'lost'. But even that didn't cover it. She felt like she was drowning, felt like she was slowly but surely losing herself. Like the city was slowly pressuring her into a nervous breakdown. Maybe that was a little extreme, but that was as close as her description could go.

She loved the city, it had been a welcome change from the traditional Montana where she'd grown up. Nothing ever stopped - New York was indeed the city that never slept. The hustle and bustle of walking down the street made her feel as if she could finally be herself - no one would be watching her, and no one would have any expectations of her. Which she loved. She loved her job - catching the criminals made her sleep better at night, knowing that someone could finally get the justice they needed. And she loved the team, her friends, who'd made her feel part of something for the first time in a long time.

No, the problem didn't lie with any of them. It lay with her. She didn't know who she was anymore.

Maybe it was because she'd changed so much since she left Montana. Slowly, she'd changed from the nervous country girl to the confident city girl. She still loved her home state, but it wasn't her home anymore. New York was.

So why did she feel so confused?

Sighing, she rested her head on the table. She'd been sat there for hours and she still didn't feel any better, still didn't know what was causing her emotions to run into overdrive. She felt like there was a gaping hole inside of her, a hole which she didn't know how to fill.

Well, she had an idea of how to fill it, but it wasn't that simple. Every little girl dreams of meeting someone who'd sweep her off her feet, and Lindsay was no exception. But Lindsay's expectations had been dashed as she grew older - at a young age she learnt about how cruel the world could be. Life wasn't a fairytale. And for Lindsay, it seemed that her life had been so much harder than others. She never seemed to catch a break.

Her thoughts wandered, and from out of nowhere, and image of Danny appeared in her mind. She shuddered, trying to dispel the image. She loved Danny. She knew that. Everyone else knew that. What he felt about her, she didn't know, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to. Lindsay had always guarded her heart fiercely since her friends had died, had always been cautious about letting someone else in. She didn't want to have her heart broken again. She knew of his reputation and still she had let herself fall for him. And he had broken her heart. They were feeling their way back to being friends again, and maybe someday, they would get back together. But what she felt now, it wasn't to do with Danny, wasn't to do with what he'd done.

She exhaled loudly again. Her thoughts were going in circles. She needed to clear her head, but she didn't know how. For the first time in her life, the rain had failed to soothe her troubled heart, had failed to show her what she was truly feeling. Having lost that, she was unsure about what to do. She wished she could just walk away from it all, even if just for a little while. If she could just leave everything behind…

But why couldn't she? It wasn't as if she had anything to do. Mac had made her take a week off work, after noticing she was running on empty. Her friends, both inside the lab and out would be at work, especially at the lab were they would be picking up the slack she'd left behind.

Getting up, she made up her mind. She walked into her bedroom, wincing at the mess she'd not bothered to clean up. Reaching into the top shelf of her closet, she took out her suitcase, trying to avoid the avalanche of paper that came from the top shelf. She really needed to sort that out at some point. As if on autopilot, she walked around her apartment, mindlessly picking up necessities and packing them in a haphazard, non-Lindsay manner. After zipping up the suitcase, she collected all the cups and plates from around the apartment, and washed them ,so that they wouldn't smell when she got back. Because she was coming back. The other mess she left, deciding she couldn't deal with it now. She'd only be gone a week.

Picking up her keys and case, she left the apartment, locking the door behind her. If anyone needed to get in, both her neighbour and Stella had a key. Knocking on her neighbour's door, she waited until they answered and told them that she'd be gone for a week, and could they take care of her mail and what-not. Finishing that, she paused. Fishing out her cell phone from her jacket pocket, she turned it off and removed the battery. It wasn't as if she didn't want to talk to anyone, she just felt she needed some time alone to deal with her thoughts, without burdening someone else.

Minutes later, she walked into the underground garage in her building. She approached her SUV, and loaded it with the stuff she was taking with her. Climbing into the driver's seat, she started the engine and pulled out onto the rain-slicked Manhattan street, immediately turning on the wipers so she could see where she was going.

Without one look back, she took off.

And two weeks later, she still hadn't returned.

* * *

_Right the next chapter should be another CSI NY one, then I'll bring WAT in. But only if you liked it of course._

_By the way, do you want there to be any **D/L** or should I keep them apart?_

_Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to continue. Please?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Well I know, its been ages since I updated, but after having major writers block, returning to school, freaking out about UCAS and uni applications, coursework and working, i needed a bit of a break._

_Even so, I hope this chapter is to your liking. I know I said there would be WAT in this, but i couldn't make it fit, esp as this is a bleeding long chapter for me anyway. But yes, I hope you like, and please feel free to review, you know I love them._

_Thanks to all of you who have reviwed already, I really appreaciate it._

_Disclaimer: Own nothing. Need proof, check my bank statements._

* * *

_One week after Lindsay left_

Mac sat in his office, watching the lab carry out its daily business through the glass walls, tapping his pen impatiently against the side of the desk and occasionally glancing at the clock that stood hear the top left corner. Lindsay was late. He tried not to read too much into the situation - there could be traffic, could be an accident she needed to find an alternate route around, could have just woken up late. But what worried Mac was that Lindsay was never late. And the couple of times she had been, she'd rung to tell him. But then again, Lindsay hadn't been herself recently. She'd been working overtime, had been taking on as many shifts as she could, until she'd almost shut down.

He couldn't pretend that he wasn't worried about his youngest CSI, and he couldn't pretend that he didn't know the reason for her problems. As much as Mac tried to avoid getting involved in his team's personal lives, he couldn't help but ignore the gossip that had been circulating the lab. But Lindsay had tried to carry on, had tried to prove that her personal life wasn't getting in the way of her work. She'd tried so hard to pretend nothing had happened, but still Mac had seen the toll it had taken on Lindsay. But once she'd refused to open up, once she'd refused to acknowledge something was wrong, Mac had had no choice but to get involved. Lindsay would have ended up putting herself, and possibly others at risk. And Mac couldn't risk that.

He'd seen the lost look in her eyes, had seen that bags under her eyes that she tried so hard to cover with makeup. Had seen her paste a fake smile on her face whenever someone asked if she was ok. Mac didn't know how to help her, didn't know how to help her get over the pain she was feeling. He knew that it was Danny's fault, but hadn't been forced to say anything to him about that - it was clear Danny was suffering enough.

Then again, he knew it wasn't just Danny that was causing Lindsay's seemingly random down spiral. There was something else, something Mac couldn't place, even after dealing with so many people on the job, after helping people with so many problems and difficult emotions. He knew that Lindsay had put a wall up around herself, but he didn't know why. And today he wanted to find out.

Glancing back at the clock once more, he noticed that half an hour had passed while he mused, and yet Lindsay had still not appeared. Mac knew deep down that something wasn't right, this wasn't like Lindsay. Picking up his cell, he rang Lindsay's cell.

"_The cellular telephone you are trying to reach can not be recognised. Please try again later."_

The mechanical voice rang loud in Macs ear. There were plenty of places in the city that cell phone reception was bad, some places not too far from the lab. But the fact Lindsay didn't pick up didn't sit right with him. Instead he tried to page her, waiting for a few moments, giving her time to reply. But the phone never rang.

Exhaling loudly, Mac reached once again for his cell, and dialled Lindsay's home number. People rarely rang her at home, but the people she spoke to on a regular basis rang her cell, so they had no need to call the landline. Mac waited, counting the rings. 4...5...6...7…8. The answer machine picked up.

"_Hi you've reached Lindsay Monroe, please leave your name and number after the beep and I'll get back to you." _

Mac hung up without leaving a message. There was no point. Lindsay was seemingly unreachable, and was almost an hour late. Mac was worried that something was wrong, but before he could do anything else, his own pager went off, giving a new crime scene location. Mac sighed. He knew he had to go to the scene, but he still wanted to know what had happened to Lindsay.

Mac was debating calling someone to check up at Lindsay's apartment (although the only person who wasn't on shift today was Danny, and Mac didn't want to make Lindsay any worse than she already was), when Stella walked past his office, and noticing his furrowed brow and worried expression, she stopped and entered.

"Mac? Is everything alright?"

"I'm not sure. I have to go to a scene, but I was waiting for Lindsay to show up. She's almost an hour late Stell."

"That's not like Lindsay, Mac. Have you tried her cell?"

"I tried, but it wouldn't connect, saying that the phone was unavailable."

Stella could see the worry in his eyes, and she herself felt her own worry over the younger woman she viewed as her best friend. "Do you think she's alright?"

"I honestly don't know. She's late, she isn't answering her pager or either of her phones. She was due back today, and if she was going to be late, she would usually ring me to let me know. But she hadn't. I was going to go over to her apartment to see if she's there, but I…"

"I'll go." Stella interrupted. "I'm off shift now and I have a spare key, so I'll go over now and see if she's around."

The grateful expression on Mac's face wasn't missed by Stella. "Thanks. I owe you one Stell. Let me know if you find her." Stella nodded, and after picking up his jacket, Mac took off out of the door, able to concentrate on the latest scene, but all the while having a small knot of worry in the back of his head.

* * *

A short while later, Stella pulled up outside Lindsay's apartment. Getting out of her SUV, she wrapped her jacket firmly around her as the cold wind whipped her hair around her face and make her cheeks sting. Winter was finally here, and as beautiful as the snow was, the bitter cold chilled Stella to the bone. She had to walk slowly due to thin sheen of ice crossing the ground - she didn't want to slip. But nevertheless, she was grateful when she finally pushed through the doors to the apartment block and into the warmth of the building.

Cursing when she found the elevator out of order, she trudged towards the stairs, hating the fact that Lindsay lived on one of the higher floors. The weak summer sun shone through the panes of glass, covering the floor and diminishing the dark. She could hear the wind whistling past the window, and was once again glad that she'd escaped from the cold - after one night of processing a scene in Central Park, all she really wanted to do was curl up and drink hot coffee whilst lounging under her duvet on the sofa. Stereotypical, maybe, but Stella didn't care, it never failed to cheer her up after the long cold nights she sometimes had to work.

Stella reached Lindsay floor, pulling her keys out of her bag, searching for the small brass one that accompanied Lindsay's door. Lindsay had given Stella the key a few months before, saying that she needed someone to have it just in case, and that Stella was one of the people she trusted most to have a key. Stella had always wondered why Danny never got the key, as he and Lindsay had always been close, but maybe Lindsay had never felt completely secure with Danny. Maybe she'd been expecting the worst after everyone in the lab warned her against dating the infamous playboy.

Finally finding the key, she leant forwards and put the key into the lock, hearing it click as the key turned. Stella pushed the door open, and looked for the light switch - the apartment was encased in darkness, as the blinds were closed and no light ventured beyond the crack between the front door and the hall. Stella blinked back against the glare brought by artificial light, but then gasped at the sight in front of her. The room was a mess. Clothes lay across the back of the couch, CDs and DVDs were scattered haphazardly across the small coffee table and spilling onto the floor. Shoes were dotted around the room and dying plants took centre stage of the small kitchen table that Stella could see through the door to her immediate left. To her right, she could see into the small bedroom, which was encased in white paper that was strewn everywhere. Stella couldn't believe it. Lindsay was a neat freak - living in this mess would have driven her mad. But then again, Lindsay would never usually leave a mess like this in the first place.

"Lindsay? Lindsay, it's Stell. Are you here?"

Upon hearing no answer, Stella moved further into the apartment, searching for her friend. This place looked like a bomb went off, a thin layer of dust coating everything within range. Within a couple of minutes, Stella determined that nobody was in the apartment. Then the CSI instincts kicked in - this scene was wrong. Lindsay would never have willingly left her place like this. But yet there were no signs of disturbance, no signs of a struggle. Nothing.

Backing out of the apartment, Stella ended up back in the hallway. As if wanting to erase the sight from her memory, she pulled the door shut, probably a little too quickly, as the door slammed, and the bang echoed through the eerily empty hallways. She relocked the door and slipped the key into her purse.

Unsure of what to do now, she moved towards the next door in the hall. Knocking on the door, she waited until the neighbour answered the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Stella Bonasera from the Crime Lab. I'm looking for Lindsay Monroe, do you know where she is? She didn't turn up to work this morning."

The young woman pulled the door open a little further, her face slightly guarded, the instincts of a native New Yorker kicking. She only relaxed when Stella showed her her badge as proof.

"I'm Emily Jennings. Lindsay came over briefly about a week ago, saying that she was taking off for a week. She asked me to keep an eye on the apartment and her mail and stuff. But she should have been back yesterday, thinking about it. I haven't been around much this week, as I've been working extra shifts at the hospital, so I haven't been keeping a close eye on the place, but everything seemed fine. I mean, only 3 people have a key to the place, and as the door wasn't kicked in, I didn't think anything of it. And I wouldn't have noticed if she didn't come back as we usually have opposing shifts."

"Did she seem ok when she left?" Stella asked, wondering why on earth Lindsay would take off without saying a word to anyone she was close to.

"Well, she's always been a quite one, and always a bit reserved. Don't get me wrong or anything, she is a lovely person, but we aren't that close. But now that you mention it, there did seem to be something off. I didn't think much of it at the time, but there was something in her eyes. She looked sad...kinda lost, I think is the way I would describe it."

"Thanks. If you hear from her, or think of anything to tell us, could you please call me? We're quite worried about her."

"Sure thing."

Stella turned away from the door, and was walking away before she heard the door click. Tugging out her phone, she hit speed dial, hoping that Mac would pick up. When he did, she could barely get her words out fast enough.

"Mac its Stella. I'm on my way back to the lab. Lindsay's place was a mess, but she wasn't here. I talked to the neighbour, and she said that Lindsay took off my herself a week ago, and that supposedly she was due back yesterday. Whilst I was inside her apartment, I noticed that her suitcase was gone, and her drawers were open and empty. I think she took off Mac. She's gone."

"Get back to the lab as fast as you can. She's been gone a week Stell, and nobody has heard from her back here, and that's not like Lindsay at all. I think we're going to have to issue a Missing Person's report.

"Ok. I'll be back as soon as I can." With that, she hung up and raced down the stairs as fast as she could. Taking a deep breath, she clutched her coat to her once more, and bowed her head as she once again faced the icy cold and bitter wind.

* * *

Mac gazed out of the window, taking in the sight on New York covered in snow. Snow usually calmed him, but this time, his mind was racing. In his hand, he held a piece of paper, and in the other he held his cell.

He wished he didn't have to make this call, but he knew he had to. Lindsay had been gone a week. And as more time went on, there was less of a chance of finding her. If she didn't want to be found, Lindsay would find a way, and if someone else didn't want her to be found…well, he couldn't even contemplate that just yet.

Mac had prided himself on how well he knew his team, but this act of Lindsay's had left him completely blindsided. He felt worry and he also felt sympathy for the young woman he now knew as his friend. If she'd left, then she must have had a good reason. Like maybe someone had forced her to leave. He just didn't know.

His thumb ran over the numbers on his phone, still hesitating. He knew that although Lindsay had told someone she was leaving, that was over a week a go, and she hadn't returned when she said she was going to. That worried Mac. She could be anywhere. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that his lab wasn't equipped for Missing person's operations.

Swallowing, he steeled his nerve, and dialled the numbers he'd so long ago hoped he'd never have to use. Waiting with bated breath, he heard the call connect.

"_Jack Malone, FBI."_

"Jack? It's Mac Taylor. I need a favour."

* * *

_Just so you know, this is set the day Lindsay was meant to return. So she's only been gone a week at this point. The next few chapters are set in the week that she is missing._

_So anyway, what did y'all think? Good, bad? Any pointers? Any guesses about where she is?_

_By the way, I have no beta, so all mistakes are my own :)  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_Ok so here is the first bit with Without A Trace - I haven't been watching the show very long so am not sure whether I have their characters right, but hopefully I do._

_Disclaimer - Own nothing, never have and I never will_

_Thanks muchly to all of my readers and reviewers and alerters and those who have favourited :)_

* * *

"Lindsay Monroe. Caucasian female, 29 years old, a criminalist for the NYPD." Jack Malone stuck Lindsay's official NYPD photo to the whiteboard before turning to his team. "She was reported missing this morning by Detective Mac Taylor after she failed to show for work after taking a week's holiday. A friend went over to her apartment and discovered that she hasn't been seen since last week, where she told a neighbour she was going away. Her phone isn't working and can't be traced, and she hasn't been in contact with anyone for over a week."

"Other than her neighbour, did she tell anyone she was leaving?" Samantha Spade asked from across the table, leaning back in her chair and interlacing her fingers.

"No, and according to her boss this is very unlike her. He's requested that we try and keep this as quite as we can for as long as possible, so we are going to work discreetly." Jack answered. "Samantha, you and I are going over to the NYPD crime lab to talk to her colleagues, to try and fine out if they know of any reason why she left. Vivian," he said, gesturing at the woman seated next to Samantha, " I want you to check her bank statements, see when and where her last withdrawals were, how much she took and whether there is any irregular activity before she disappeared.

"Martin, I want you to go to her apartment, talk to the neighbours, try and get a read on her character, routine. Get the super to open the apartment, find her computer or anything else that might give an indication as to where she went." The tall man lounging against the desk nodded and straightened up, whilst Jack turned his attention to the last member of his team, Danny Taylor.

"Danny, I want you to check out all of the hospitals in the area. Try and see if anyone matches Miss Monroe's description. Remember all of you to be discreet. Mac Taylor doesn't want news of this being given to the media just yet. And remember, this woman is a criminalist - if she doesn't want to be found, she'll be trying much harder to cover her tracks, which means we have to work much harder to find her."

With that, each member of the team got up and went their separate ways. "I have to tell you Jack," Samantha said as they made their way down to the parking garage, "It sounds like this woman ran."

"Yes, but the question is, what is she running from?"

* * *

Both Mac and Stella looked up when they heard the knock on Mac's office door. Immediately, Mac recognised Jack Malone, and he waved him in. Walking forwards, Mac reached out to shake Jack's hand. "Jack. Long time no see. This is Detective Stella Bonasera. Stella, this is Jack Malone, he works for the FBI missing persons unit."

Stella stepped forwards and shook Jack's hand. "You're here to help us find Lindsay?"

"I'm going to try." Jack said. "This is Samantha Spade, one of my colleagues in the FBI." Both Mac and Stella shook hands with Samantha, and then Mac indicated that everyone should sit down.

* * *

Hawkes looked up from reading his case file to find Adam standing on his tiptoes, trying to see above the equipment into Mac's office. "Adam, what are you doing?"

Adam span around, blushing and rubbing his neck nervously. "Sorry Hawkes, I was just trying to see what was going on in Mac's office. Apparently we have FBI agents in the building."

Hawkes frowned. "FBI? That's weird. I didn't realise any of the cases we have at the moment had any ties to the FBI." Just then, the GCMS spat out the results of the substance Adam was running.

"Ok, the substance on the vic's jacket was Denatonium Benzoate, which is a chemical found in most nail varnish removers. Doesn't explain why the stand would be on the back of the jacket though. Anyway I hope that helps Doc."

"Thanks Adam. I have some trace coming in from another case soon, the case with the dancer murdered on Brooklyn Bridge."

"I thought that was Lindsay's case."

"It was, but apparently she didn't come back today, so the lab is kinda overworked. Lets hope she gets back soon, we're going to get swamped if the criminals keep up their activities like they have been doing over the past week.

* * *

"So you haven't seen Lindsay in over a week?"

"No. I made her take a weeks vacation - she was noticeably stressed and she was trying to work as many hours as she could. She was draining herself and sooner or later she was going to make a mistake. I was quite worried about her as Lindsay always manages to usually keep her emotions to herself and expresses them outside of work." Mac spoke up.

"Do either of you know what happened that caused her to become like this?" Samantha asked. She didn't miss the hesitant glance between Mac and Stella before Stella answered "I have an idea. A couple of weeks ago, she found out that her boyfriend cheated on her with one of his neighbours. And I don't think she dealt with that very well."

"What's the boyfriend's name?" Jack asked

"Danny Messer. He works here at the lab with us, so its been quite awkward between the two of them. I've had to keep them on separate cases just to try and ease the tension and reduce the chances of contamination. He's off shift today but it looks like at this rate I'll have to ask him to come in this afternoon."

"Could you give me his address and I'll send a member of my team over to talk to him." Jack asked, and dutifully noted down the address of Danny's apartment, before pulling out his cell and excusing himself from the room. Outside Mac's office, he rang Martin.

"Fitzgerald."

"Martin it's Jack. I need you to get over to Danny's Messer's apartment and talk to him about Lindsay - apparently they were dating and he cheated on her." Jack passed over the address. "Let me know what you get from him." He hung up and shoved the cell back into his pocket.

Inside the office, Stella and Mac sat there nervously. Samantha could tell that they were worried about their colleague and their friend, and that they were kicking themselves about not checking up on her earlier. "We're doing all we can to find her Detectives. We're tracing her bank records, credit cards, checking out anyone who may have had contact with her in the last week,"

Mac nodded slowly, and Stella bowed her head, refusing to shed her tears. Mac said "The thing is, that if Lindsay doesn't want to be found, then we won't find her."

* * *

_So did that work? You wanna know where she's gone? Review and let me know!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Wow, thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter, it really made my day :)_

_This is where Danny finds outabout Lindsay being missing - let me know if I got Danny right in this chapter - in my mind, in the show, he should have made more of an effort to apolgise to Lindsay. Anyone else agree?_

_Disclaimer: Same as always, not mine_

* * *

Martin looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. Even though his writing was almost illegible, he knew that he was at the right address. Walking up to the main entrance of the building, he checked the apartment listings, and found that Danny Messer lived on the fifth floor in apartment C. Stepping into the elevator, he thought about the information Jack had given him. Granted, he didn't know the circumstances of what had happened between this man and Lindsay Monroe, but there was one thing he was certain of - it is never ok to cheat on someone. In his line of work, and he suspected in theirs too, he'd seen people who'd been torn about by their partner being unfaithful. Surely they would know the consequences of someone cheating on another person? Could that be the reason that Lindsay had left?

Martin had been learnt over the years never to judge anyone by what had happened, never to have preconceptions of the people he met. He'd dealt with many people who'd run away to escape worse secrets, and there would always be people he would never trust. He just didn't know right now whether Messer should be trusted or not. He may have been a CSI, but he may also have been the reason that Lindsay had left.

The elevator dinged and announced his arrival on the fifth floor. Taking a quick glance around the hallway, he located 5C and headed towards it. As he walked, he could hear a woman crying through one of the walls, could hear shouting from another apartment, kids laughing in another, oblivious to their surroundings. So many people, so many stories. But right now, Lindsay was the one who needed his help, so as much as he wanted to stop the woman crying and stop the adults shouting, he carried on. They didn't need him.

Arriving in front of the door, he raised his right hand and rapped sharply on the door. After waiting a few seconds, and receiving no answer, rapped again. This time, he could hear faint sounds through the door, and impatiently knocked for the third time.

A thick, irritated Staten Island accent came through the door. "Alright alright I'm comin, I'm comin." The door swung open to reveal the owner of the voice. Martin took in the man's appearance - he was roughly 5"11 with dirty blond hair that severely needed to be cut. He wore a white wife-beater and grey slacks, and was rubbing his eyes with were shadowed with fatigue. A three growth of stubble was visible on the man's face and there was a small cut on his left cheek. "Can I help ya?"

Martin raised an eyebrow. "Danny Messer?"

"Yeah, that's me. Who the hell are you?"

Martin showed his FBI ID. "Martin Fitzgerald. I'm with FBI Missing persons. Can I come in?" Danny stepped back and let Martin into the apartment. Martin blinked at the state of the place - dirty plates were everywhere, take-out boxes covered the work surfaces, clothes were carelessly draped all over the furniture. Danny made a sound, and walked past Martin, picking things up as he went. "Sorry bout the mess, I wasn't expecting company. You wanna seat?"

Martin shook his head quickly. "No that's ok, I'll stand."

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose and grabbed a pair of glasses from the coffee table, before taking a seat on his couch. Pushing the glasses roughly onto his face, he blinked a couple of times and squinted up at Martin. "So FBI? What can I do for ya?"

Martin pulled a photo out of his pocket and handed towards Danny. "Do you know this woman?" Danny looked at it briefly then handed it back. "Sure that's Lindsay, Lindsay Monroe. What about her?"

Danny's sleep-deprived brain was running on empty and his usually perceptive mind wasn't picking up on what was going on. Martin decided to take pity of the man.

"When was the last time you saw or spoke to her?

Danny frowned. "Last time I saw her, was just over a week ago. We were working the same shift, but on different cases. I haven't spoken to her in almost two weeks. We're kinda having a hard time of it at the moment…" His voice trailed off, and he looked away. Two seconds later, his head whipped back to look at Martin. "What, why? What happened?" The cogs started turning in his brain and his eyes widened as the realisation hit him. "What FBI Missing Persons? Lindsay's missing?!" Martin nodded.

"SHIT!" Danny leapt to his feet, and Martin took a step backwards. "Since when?"

"According to your boss, she was supposed to go into work and she never showed up. A Stella Bonasera went over to her apartment and found out that she left a week ago, without giving any indication of where she was going. The worrying part is that she didn't come back when she said she would, and her cell is untraceable. Anything could have happened."

Danny sank back onto the couch, and his eyes filled with tears. "Oh God. Oh God." He ran his fingers through his hair, his anger gone.

"Obviously you know how this works. We need to know what was happening in her life and what possible reason she could have had for leaving. As her boyfriend, we'd assume you'd know more than others, except maybe a best friend."

Danny glanced at Marti briefly, then got up and walked to the window. Looking out on the snow-covered Manhattan streets, he started talking quietly. "She's not my girlfriend anymore. Not since…"

"Not since you told her you cheated on her?" Martin asked, trying to keep his voice neutral, regardless of his personal beliefs about the whole thing.

Danny laugher bitterly, not even bothering to turn around. "You know about that do ya? Yeah I cheated on her, and believe me I'm not proud of it. If I could take it back, believe me I would. Seems like everyone knew but her. She finally opened up, and I broke her heart. Poetic justice don't you think?"

Danny turned around to face Martin. Shame was clear on his face, and worry had clouded his previously tired eyes, yet Martin was still finding it hard to develop any sympathy for the man. "Why did you cheat on her?"

"My neighbour's son died during a bodega robbery. The kid, Ruben, he was practically my own son, with the amount of time he spent here. I was bringing him home from the Blessing of the Bikes ceremony, and he got shot, but I didn't know it at the time. A man was bleeding, and I told the kid to go home. He never made it. He died in an alley 3 blocks from his apartment. I promised her that I'd get her son home safe, and I failed. The night it happened, we were both grieving, and she came over. I don't even know how it happened. I'd tuned Lindsay out 'cos I didn't want to hurt her with my grief. Turns out I hurt her anyway. And don't think I've not beaten myself up about this because I have."

Martin nodded slowly, absorbing the information. To him, it still didn't make it right. And clearly to Lindsay it hadn't either. Tapping his pen against his notepad thoughtfully, he reread what he'd written. "Is it possible that this woman did anything to Lindsay?"

"What Rikki? No. No way. She's grieving her son, and Lindsay has nothing to do with Ruben. She didn't even work his case. I slept with Rikki as a one time thing because we were both grieving. Rikki understood that. It wasn't her. Not a chance."

"Do you know of anyone in the city that Lindsay was close to, family, friends outside of the lab? Anyone that she would have told her problems to, spoken to about leaving?"

Danny shook his head. "No. Her family all live back in Montana, and her Uncle that lived in the city died a couple of years back. As for friends, I don't really know. I doubt it somehow. Don't get me wrong, she's a lovely person, and a great friend, but what with our work schedules it's hard to keep other commitments. But I think I'm the wrong person to be asking. Stella might know more. She's Lind's best friend in the city."

"And can you think of any other reason that she might have left?"

Again Danny shook his head. "I don't think so. Before all this happened, she was happy. Really happy. She'd finally put her past behind her and she was moving on with her life. But again, as for the last few weeks, I think you'd need to talk to Stella."

"What do you mean, moving on with her life?"

"She was the sole survivor of a crime almost 11 years ago now. She watched her friends being murdered and they only just caught the guy who did it. She testified in Montana and the bastard got sent away for life. I flew out to see her during the trial, you know, for moral-support?" He laughed bitterly again, clenching and unclenching his hands as he started at his feet. "The first girl I've liked like this and I screw it up. So bloody typical. And now she's left because of it."

Martin shook his head this time. It was clear that the guy was beating himself up, and he'd seen enough grief to know when it was genuine. Messer would have to be a bloody good actor to fake this. "You don't know that. She might have left because of that, but the fact she didn't come back sounds dodgy." Standing, he made his way towards the door, Danny following. "We'll probably need to talk again, but if she calls or you remember anything, give me a ring. You know how this works - after the first 48 hours it's difficult to find someone. Someone from the FBI will probably be at the lab for a while and will keep you all up-to-date as per Detective Taylor's request." Handing Danny his card, he turned and opened the door, before stepping into the hallway.

Before he could leave, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and found Danny still stood there. Danny looked at him gravely. "Please find her. Just make sure she's ok." His tone was pleading.

Martin nodded. "We will."

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_Cold. All around. Seeping through her clothes, into her bones. She shivered on the concrete floor, hearing the steady dripping from the pipe above her onto the floor, a meter or so away from where she was lying. The room was musty and damp, covered in pipes that spread from one end to the other. The rats scuttled around in the corners, avoiding the barely moving object in the middle of the room. She hated rats. She could hear the wind whistling past the small window not 10 feet above her, could see the rain lashing against that same window. And yet only one thought echoed through her mind._

_What was she going to do?_

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Reviews very much appreciated :)


	5. Chapter 5

_Ok, I know I know that this chapter is very short. That is the way it has to be right now. I thought that we needed to see a bit more Lindsay, and I think it's a lot harder to fit this in with the other events. So please bare with me._

_Disclaimer - not mine, nothing is mine_

_Thanks to all of those who review, alert and favourite, you make me happy :)_

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She knew she should have gone back. She knew she shouldn't have gone so far. But she couldn't help it. She'd needed to get away. And now, she was in no position to go back. She was trapped. Being pulled from different directions confused her and left her without a leg to stand on. She didn't know how she'd be able to get herself out of the mess unscathed.

She didn't even know if that was possible.

An image of Danny flashed through her mind again, as it had many times since she'd left - he didn't know where she was, and he was probably panicking. Probably wondering if she'd done something stupid, if it was all his fault. And he'd probably never know, if she didn't help herself. She'd made sure no one would be able to trace her. She'd make her own way back, when and if she wanted to, she'd reasoned.

Well, she would, if she ever got the chance. It had all started out so simple.

_Flashback_

_She drove through the streets of Manhattan, weaving in and out of the others cars whilst trying not to draw attention to herself. She needed have worried - the rain was falling hard, and within seconds of the wipers clearing the windshield, the glass was covered in water again, making sight further than the car in front of her impossible. _

_She knew that by leaving without telling anyone she was possibly letting herself in for lectures when she came back, but at that moment she just didn't care. She just drove, and refused to let her mind wander - she needed to be free of the city and all of the illusions it held before she could even begin to unravel the way she felt. _

_T__he lights of the city that never slept past her by in a rush of colour and bewilderment - she remembered how excited she'd felt when she'd first arrived here. Time past unnoticed as she carried on, driving anywhere the road took her - she didn't know where she was going, and at that point she just didn't care. The road signs could have been written in Swahili for all the knew. _

_Eventually, the lights from the city dimmed, and the roads became darker and quieter. Still she refused herself to think - if she did, she'd turn around and go home, go back to what she was running from. She just drove._

_End Flashback_

But maybe everything hadn't been simple. Maybe she'd just made it harder for herself by leaving without warning or anyone's knowledge. Maybe if they'd known she'd gone then she wouldn't be stuck here now. But that was then and this was now. Maybe leaving hadn't been the right thing to do. But even if she was stuck now, she'd managed to sort herself out, had managed to sort out her feelings without being pressured by the constant vibes of the city.

Now she just had to make her way home.

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_Like I said - it was meant to be short. Hopefully it was short and sweet._ _However, reviews are still craved for._

_Will get back to the team of CSI and WAT next chapter - trying to trace Lindsay!_

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